Love and Lists
Page 33
“I don’t have time for that shit right now, Molls. I need a sharp object that will poke a hole in a tire,” I tell her distractedly as I look through all of the cupboards in the kitchen.
After our catfight a few days ago, Ava and I called a truce and she suggested I go with the whole flat tire item on the list next. Guys like a damsel in distress. Rocco assured me that it would be a good way to make Gavin feel like a man. He’s under the impression that Gavin is probably more embarrassed about what happened last week than I am. I find that hard to believe, but whatever. He hasn’t called or sent me a text since it happened and it’s freaking me out.
“No, really. Come here and watch this. It’s a Taylor Swift video and during the chorus, goats scream. Oh my God, this is the best thing I’ve ever seen,” Molly says in between hysterical laughter.
Opening the silverware drawer, I pull out the largest butcher knife I can find.
“Jesus, put the knife away. I’ll stop playing goat screaming videos,” Molly says in a panic as she comes up behind me, staring nervously at the knife in my hand.
Rolling my eyes at her, I close the drawer with my hip and grab my purse off of the counter.
“I swear to God you never listen to anything that goes on in this house.”
Molly follows behind me as I make my way to the front door.
“Oh, I heard all about you trying to beat the shit out of Ava. Why do I miss all of the good stuff?” Molly complains.
“Because you’re in school. Or you’re supposed to be. Why aren’t you at school right now?”
Molly is five years younger than me and from an early age, she loved helping Aunt Claire out in the kitchen. Right now she’s in school full-time earning her degree in Culinary Arts so she can be a pastry chef for one of Aunt Claire’s stores.
“It’s midterms week. I only have to go to class for my tests. So, remind me again why you’re taking a knife with you to meet Gavin? I don’t think gutting him like a fish will convince him that he loves you,” Molly says with a laugh.
“No, but hopefully slashing my tires will.”
Molly shakes her head at me. “I still don’t understand how you could possibly be in love with Gavin. I mean, this is GAVIN we’re talking about. He used to take the heads off of all of our Barbie’s and then staple them to the ceiling. And you two used to fight constantly when we were kids. How many times did Mom and Aunt Claire have to break you guys up before you killed each other?”
She’s right. We hated each other as kids. I don’t even know why we didn’t like each other. Every time we were in the same room together, someone wound up crying.
“That dress looks funny on you,” Gavin told me, grabbing my favorite I can be a teacher Barbie from my hands and then throwing it across the room.
“You’re a dumb stupid head. Go pick up my Barbie right now,” I said with a stomp of my foot.
“You’re such a baby. I can’t believe you called me a dumb stupid head,” Gavin replied with a laugh.
“I’m not a baby. YOU’RE a baby!” I shouted.
“I’m nine. That’s practically an adult.”
“Fine, then you’re dumb stupid adult!” I yelled angrily.
“You’re a labia,” Gavin replied.
“What’s a labia? That’s dumb.”
Gavin shrugged. “I heard it the other day. My mom said it’s a rare fish that no one ever talks about.”
“I want a labia,” I told him.
“You can’t have a labia. You ARE a labia. Labia face,” he said, turning his back on me and walking away.
I was so angry that I hurtled my six-year-old body at him and wrapped my arms around him from behind, tackling him to the ground.
“GAAAAAAAAAAAAAH MY NUTS!” Gavin screamed in pain as we crashed to the floor and he flung me off of him.
I stood up quickly and stared down at him angrily.
“You’re mean. I don’t like you.”
Gavin scrambled up off of the ground and before I knew it, he charged at me and slammed his head into my hip, knocking us both back on the ground.
We were both screaming and crying when my mom and Aunt Liz came running into the room.
“What the hell is going on?” Aunt Claire shouted as she picked Gavin up off of the floor and my mom helped me up.
“SHE HURT MY NUTS!” Gavin cried, pointing at me.
“HE CRASHED HIS HEAD INTO MY NOO-NOO-COW!” I wailed, holding my hands between my legs.
“Jesus God. He head-butted her in the vagina,” my mom muttered.
“I hope these two get married some day or this is just going to get worse,” Aunt Claire replied.
Opening the door, I lift up my arm and wave good-bye to Molly with the knife. “Wish me luck. If this flat tire thing doesn’t work, I might have to punch him in the nuts.”
“I have no idea what that means, but have fun with that. Bring me home some mint chocolate chip ice cream.”
Thirty minutes later, after I called Gavin and told him my dilemma, I’m standing next to my car on the side of the road listening to the hiss of the air leaving the tire. I may have been a little overzealous in my stabbing. There’s no way Gavin is going to believe my car just got a flat on its own. He’s a guy. Guys know these things. I don’t have time to worry about that, though. I see his car pulling off the side of the road right behind mine. Leaning against the hood, I try to look as sexy as possible. Rocco suggested I pretend like I’m in a p**n o. Ultimate guy fantasy: a woman having car problems on the side of the road.
After our catfight a few days ago, Ava and I called a truce and she suggested I go with the whole flat tire item on the list next. Guys like a damsel in distress. Rocco assured me that it would be a good way to make Gavin feel like a man. He’s under the impression that Gavin is probably more embarrassed about what happened last week than I am. I find that hard to believe, but whatever. He hasn’t called or sent me a text since it happened and it’s freaking me out.
“No, really. Come here and watch this. It’s a Taylor Swift video and during the chorus, goats scream. Oh my God, this is the best thing I’ve ever seen,” Molly says in between hysterical laughter.
Opening the silverware drawer, I pull out the largest butcher knife I can find.
“Jesus, put the knife away. I’ll stop playing goat screaming videos,” Molly says in a panic as she comes up behind me, staring nervously at the knife in my hand.
Rolling my eyes at her, I close the drawer with my hip and grab my purse off of the counter.
“I swear to God you never listen to anything that goes on in this house.”
Molly follows behind me as I make my way to the front door.
“Oh, I heard all about you trying to beat the shit out of Ava. Why do I miss all of the good stuff?” Molly complains.
“Because you’re in school. Or you’re supposed to be. Why aren’t you at school right now?”
Molly is five years younger than me and from an early age, she loved helping Aunt Claire out in the kitchen. Right now she’s in school full-time earning her degree in Culinary Arts so she can be a pastry chef for one of Aunt Claire’s stores.
“It’s midterms week. I only have to go to class for my tests. So, remind me again why you’re taking a knife with you to meet Gavin? I don’t think gutting him like a fish will convince him that he loves you,” Molly says with a laugh.
“No, but hopefully slashing my tires will.”
Molly shakes her head at me. “I still don’t understand how you could possibly be in love with Gavin. I mean, this is GAVIN we’re talking about. He used to take the heads off of all of our Barbie’s and then staple them to the ceiling. And you two used to fight constantly when we were kids. How many times did Mom and Aunt Claire have to break you guys up before you killed each other?”
She’s right. We hated each other as kids. I don’t even know why we didn’t like each other. Every time we were in the same room together, someone wound up crying.
“That dress looks funny on you,” Gavin told me, grabbing my favorite I can be a teacher Barbie from my hands and then throwing it across the room.
“You’re a dumb stupid head. Go pick up my Barbie right now,” I said with a stomp of my foot.
“You’re such a baby. I can’t believe you called me a dumb stupid head,” Gavin replied with a laugh.
“I’m not a baby. YOU’RE a baby!” I shouted.
“I’m nine. That’s practically an adult.”
“Fine, then you’re dumb stupid adult!” I yelled angrily.
“You’re a labia,” Gavin replied.
“What’s a labia? That’s dumb.”
Gavin shrugged. “I heard it the other day. My mom said it’s a rare fish that no one ever talks about.”
“I want a labia,” I told him.
“You can’t have a labia. You ARE a labia. Labia face,” he said, turning his back on me and walking away.
I was so angry that I hurtled my six-year-old body at him and wrapped my arms around him from behind, tackling him to the ground.
“GAAAAAAAAAAAAAH MY NUTS!” Gavin screamed in pain as we crashed to the floor and he flung me off of him.
I stood up quickly and stared down at him angrily.
“You’re mean. I don’t like you.”
Gavin scrambled up off of the ground and before I knew it, he charged at me and slammed his head into my hip, knocking us both back on the ground.
We were both screaming and crying when my mom and Aunt Liz came running into the room.
“What the hell is going on?” Aunt Claire shouted as she picked Gavin up off of the floor and my mom helped me up.
“SHE HURT MY NUTS!” Gavin cried, pointing at me.
“HE CRASHED HIS HEAD INTO MY NOO-NOO-COW!” I wailed, holding my hands between my legs.
“Jesus God. He head-butted her in the vagina,” my mom muttered.
“I hope these two get married some day or this is just going to get worse,” Aunt Claire replied.
Opening the door, I lift up my arm and wave good-bye to Molly with the knife. “Wish me luck. If this flat tire thing doesn’t work, I might have to punch him in the nuts.”
“I have no idea what that means, but have fun with that. Bring me home some mint chocolate chip ice cream.”
Thirty minutes later, after I called Gavin and told him my dilemma, I’m standing next to my car on the side of the road listening to the hiss of the air leaving the tire. I may have been a little overzealous in my stabbing. There’s no way Gavin is going to believe my car just got a flat on its own. He’s a guy. Guys know these things. I don’t have time to worry about that, though. I see his car pulling off the side of the road right behind mine. Leaning against the hood, I try to look as sexy as possible. Rocco suggested I pretend like I’m in a p**n o. Ultimate guy fantasy: a woman having car problems on the side of the road.
